Yuuri was sulking.

It had been a week. One whole week.

Yuuri was used to missing home. He had gotten used to being in one place and missing the other, and gotten even more used to being whisked between his two homes at the most inconvenient times. He had resigned himself to this; it was simply part of being the Maou.

But he had never signed up for this. Missing home was one thing. Missing family was yet another. This was different again, and he went for long walks simply in an attempt to clear his head whenever it felt like he couldn't stand whatever it was that was making his stomach do somersaults (he was unable to communicate this to anyone else, although Shori looked like he wanted to say something to Yuuri numerous times, before settling for swallowing whatever it was and glaring a lot. His mother made even more curry than usual and beamed at Yuuri in a way that made him feel grateful and uncomfortable both at once).

He took a lot of baths, hoping at every second to be transported back to his second home. Conrad was waiting from him there – he had said so. But the water stubbornly refused to be moved, however much Yuuri muttered under his breath and splashed about experimentally and waited.

And this evening, he was sulking. The water had grown from steaming to tepid, and Yuuri had not moved for the past half hour, his arms resting over the side of the bathtub as he stared into nothing. One whole week, he thought to himself, and closed his eyes as he began the task of summing up the enthusiasm to get up.

When he opened them, the water in the bathtub had begun to churn. Yuuri did not have time to register anything else before the water exploded suddenly upwards. He gave a startled yelp and shielded his face with an arm, hearing the bath water overflow onto the tiled floor as the level dramatically rose.

After Yuuri warily lowered his arm, he could only gape in shock.

There was a very wet, very dazzling, very naked Conrad sitting across from him in the bath.

Yuuri suddenly wished that the bathwater was cooler still as the soldier looked at him, blinking in mild surprise. "Ah", he said, as if this was something that occurred every day. "Good evening, Heika."

"Um", said Yuuri intelligently, and tried not to stare too hard. Sadly, his eyes did not seem to want to cooperate. "Conrad, what-" He abruptly broke off as Conrad leaned forward, brushing a stray lock of dark, dripping hair from his eyes. Yuuri shivered as Conrad's hand lingered, palm to cheekbone. The look in the soldier's eyes was as yet unfamiliar, but it was enough to make Yuuri's blood race. His hips shifted involuntarily in response.

"Your pardon, Heika", said Conrad, and his voice had gained a somewhat huskier quality. "It seems I was unable to wait so very long after all."

His hand guided Yuuri's chin gently, insistently, upwards. More water sloshed to the floor as lips, bodies, met. Yuuri closed his eyes again.

It had only been one week.

He could not help but wonder how Conrad would have reacted had it been two.